


Pasta con le sarde

by orphan_account



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Dinner dates, Drunk crying, F/M, Pure crack from start to finish, but also somehow both longer AND more active than the supposed character study i did, idk lads i just wanted to have fun, no poor waiters were killed or harmed in the production of this fic (for now), on a holiday in northern italy somewhere i guess, violetta pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:47:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24633316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A traditional Sicilian pasta dish with sardines, eggplant, onion, tomato and other vegetables. Can be made as a tossed stovetop spaghetti or a baked oven dish. Often topped with fried or toasted bread crumbs to add taste and texture where hard, long-matured cheeses might have been too expensive.
Relationships: Violetta Talenti/Ludo Talenti
Comments: 15
Kudos: 14





	Pasta con le sarde

**Author's Note:**

> 15th nov 2020: i'm deleting my account but leaving this and a few others up as orphaned versions.
> 
> If you're not here for Ludo drunk crying over pasta and Violetta gushing about her new dresses bought with their criminal money then idk what to tell you cos that's all this is, you're very welcome.

'Ludo, you're too-'

'I am _not_ too drunk!' He let the menu flop down on the table again and gave her a hopeless look. Violetta lifted an eyebrow - he was probably lying, just from experience, but he was too good with his face for her to be sure.

'I know you and Mariuccio well enough to know that you are.' She set her own menu down, closed.

His face crinkled in annoyance. 'No, you don't.' He rolled his head this way and that. 'Besides, I haven't seen him in years, it wasn't like he was talking me into… anything. It was all right. I'm not too drunk.'

'Well, you're not driving us back to the hotel,' Violetta said. 'I won't get in the car. And I won't let you do that either.'

She looked up to see him chewing on his tongue. Another scolding look and he sighed. 'Fine, all right. I'm... a _little_ tipsy. But Marjucë was worse, believe me.'

'Yes, I know.' She'd seen them both when they came to pick her up from her dress fitting. It wasn't that Mariuccio's tall, broken nose was too handsome anyway, but drunken redness hadn't helped his face one bit. At least Ludo wasn't that far for the evening. Maybe.

'So, what are you having?' he asked and smiled, and at least the attention was better than his sulking at the menu in silence. Violetta shrugged.

'I can't decide.' There was a lovely-sounding seafood risotto, but the day had been long and she wasn't sure if she'd rather have something a bit heartier. Sure, there'd been the soup appetizer, but it wasn't a lot. If she knew Ludo at all-

'They don't have _con le sarde_ I'm...' He let out a loud huff. 'I'm a little upset by that, honestly.'

Violetta closed her eyes not to roll them. 'Then get something else.'

'Well, I wanted that.'

'I'm sure you will live. Get something else.'

Ludo laid the menu down again and leaned in. 'Obviously, _I'm going to get something else,_ but first I'm only getting upset. This is a pitiable menu.'

'Have the seafood risotto, then. That's scampi and shellfish.'

'No, I-' He closed his mouth and looked at her like she'd offended him. Hurt him, even. He crossed his hands on the table. 'I'm not here for a small shellfish risotto, I'm starving.'

'You don't have to get a risotto, there's a steak, a chicken option... Different pastas, too. I'll have the risotto anyway.' Violetta nodded at her closed menu, just so they would have _something_ to order when the waiter eventually came back. (And maybe to make Ludo's face twitch in annoyance, too, but she was teasing him only a little.)

Based on how he rolled his eyes and leaned back again she might as well have told him something worse.

'It isn't really a fine dining dish anyway, Ludo.'

'Well, it should be.'

'Right.'

'Darling, if you want to start arguing about pasta con le sarde, we can argue. I would rather not, but we _can-'_

'I didn't get it off the menu, Ludo. Ask the waiter. Talk to the chef. I don't know why they don't make it,' she said. 

She should've left their table, headed for the bar on the other side of the restaurant instead. There had to be another man who'd be content with just ordering off the damn menu and having a nice dinner with her.

The waiter returned, and Ludo went through the menu again. 

'We're both going to have the seafood risotto,' Violetta said to save him from standing and staring at Ludo's scowl too long.

'We are not,' Ludo said firmly. 'I'm not having that.'

Violetta gave the waiter a tight smile. 'Well, I am. Could you recommend a pasta instead, for my husband?'

'The spinach pesto with ricotta is a popular one.'

'Ludo?'

He gave her a short glare, then to the waiter an even tighter and unkinder smile than hers had been. 'Sure. Sounds just lovely.'

'So, for _signora_ the seafood risotto, for _signore_ the ricotta pesto pasta?'

Ludo nodded and made a very vaguely laugh-like sound behind the twist of his lips.

Violetta looked at the tablecloth and checked that her earrings were still hanging the right way. Oh, _Mamma._

Ludo shifted in his chair. 'Happy now?'

'No,' she said.

'Good.' Ludo crossed his hands in his lap again. 'Neither am I.'

'It's just food, Ludo, and you're dr-'

'I am not that drunk! I'm disappointed.'

Violetta pursed her lips with a slow nod. Sure. Not drunk at all when they had to keep having the debate again and again, and his voice nearly cracked because of the wrong pasta.

When they finally sat with their dinner in front of them, Ludo's face only fell further.

'Ludo?'

'Don't talk to me.'

She stared ahead for a moment. 'Ludo, I'm not talking about the pasta-'

'Oh, because that was a pasta-specific _"don't talk to me,"_ clearly.'

'Are you this upset only because of the food?' Violetta lowered her voice a little and tried to look kind. 'Or was it something else?'

He frowned, almost insulted at the implication that he wouldn't be able to handle his drinks. Then he sighed, insulted for the very different implication that he would throw a fit over a northern menu while perfectly sober. Then he twirled a fork in his pesto pasta, clearly very upset and very drunk despite his frowns and sighs, and shook his head a little.

'No, I'm fine.'

'Nothing else?' She asked.

'No, I just-' He wiped at his face and cut himself off. 'No.' 

'You're just drunk?'

He gave her a surprisingly clear glare under his brows. _'Yes_ , I'm just drunk. But not that badly. Stop asking, you'll get the waiters fussy.'

Violetta lowered her voice into a whisper, and promised him, 'You can always buy sardines tomorrow, my dear.'

It was an insulted sound and quick, teary blinking, when his composure broke. 'Well, I can't cook them in a hotel room!' Priceless. So much for _not that drunk_.

'Then do it after we're out of this town.'

'How is that of any help tonight?'

'Ludo, it's good pasta anyway-'

'Don't talk to me about the food!' he snapped again, but probably mostly to himself because he stopped running his mouth and finally dug into his pesto pasta.

Right. The teasing did lose some of its charm when he was _actually_ sulking. Violetta blinked slowly and took a deep breath. What a joyous dinner they were having. What a lovely night it was.

Anyway, the risotto was good at least. She also had a lovely talk about the dresses she'd tried on - the one with lilac flowers and deep emerald green was her absolute favourite, even if it hadn't been the _best_ dress available in terms of quality. Her conversation partner mostly kept on looking at his food like he was about to cry. A grown man, come on. At least he wasn't emptying his glass of wine too swiftly on top of whatever he and Mariuccio had had.

He listened attentively, though, and nodded when she asked if he thought he liked the sound of the one she'd picked. And he _did_ finish his pasta, without grumbling. He even offered to buy her some dessert when it was all done and over with, so it couldn't have been that bad.

'What are you having?' He asked over the menu.

'Did _you_ find what you'd like to have?' she asked back and gave him a warning look. Any more hiccups about the menu, and she'd be out.

Ludo nodded with a benevolent smile, as if he hadn't had a fit to begin with. 'I'm satisfied with whatever you choose, darling.'

'Okay,' Violetta said. She had her doubts, but didn't push. 'I hope you know you're not sleeping next to me tonight.'

'I hope you're joking.'

'Buy me some of that saffron tart, it sounds delicious, and we'll see if I am.'

Ludo sighed and rolled his eyes, but beckoned a waiter anyway.

_Pasta con le sarde._ Why did he even bother lying about how drunk he was when it was always that?


End file.
